


A Flash of Lightning

by Lauded_Liar



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Anal Sex, BDSM, Consensual Kink, Consensual Non-Consent, Love, M/M, Oral Sex, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-27
Updated: 2020-08-27
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:48:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26135257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lauded_Liar/pseuds/Lauded_Liar
Summary: Dorian suggest they try some different techniques in bed.  Of course Cullen over thinks things and perhaps takes it a little too far.Not that Dorian really minds.  In fact, he rather enjoys every single second of Cullen's overthinking.
Relationships: Dorian Pavus/Cullen Rutherford
Comments: 8
Kudos: 68





	A Flash of Lightning

**Author's Note:**

> *******ATTENTION*******
> 
> This is a fiction work about rough, semi-consensual sex. I feel it is imperative to remind anyone reading this that sex is a two person act.
> 
> Sure, it's fun to read these scenarios, get all hot and bothered while imagining your favorite characters enacting these fantasies.
> 
> But it needs to be said: If and when you are to engage in these activities you must ALWAYS ensure your partner is on the same level as you. Always practice safe and consensual sex. Always listen to your partner when they say no. Or if they say yes. Sex is one of the more exciting acts we can perform with another human. But it is also one of the most vulnerable acts.
> 
> "Trust is a fragile thing: Easy to break, easy to lose, and one of the hardest things to ever get back."
> 
> With that being said: Enjoy!
> 
> Also, sorry if this seriously misrepresents the BDSM community. I am not part of the deeper aspects of the community but have tried to at least represent it fairly.

“What do you think of using a toy in bed?”

Cullen looked up from his plate of breakfast, his eyes blinking wide as he looked over at Dorian. “What?” He asked, mildly perplexed by the sudden question.

“Toys. In bed. During sex.” Dorian set his newspaper down and directed his grey gaze towards Cullen.

The ex-Templar blinked again. He still wasn’t exactly sure he had heard the man correctly. Clearing his throat softly, Cullen shifted about in his seat a little. “I-I’m not sure-”

“Of course we would start with something small. Like a feather. That could be fun.” The mage’s lips were slowly quirking up at the edges as Cullen continued to shift about in discomfort.

Why was the other man ask this all of a sudden? “Am I... Are you disappointed? Is there... Am I not...” Cullen trailed off, looking back down at his plate of eggs.

“Oh! No, you’re perfect. In _every_ way.” Dorian purred as his hand reached over the table to take Cullen’s fingers and squeeze them gently. “I’m just suggesting maybe we... Play around a little. Explore. Not that anything is wrong! I just thought we could take a step outside the normal. Maybe.” A slight shrug of a shoulder.

Cullen pondered those words as Dorian’s hand released it’s hold and the man went back to his newspaper. He liked normal. He liked stable. His life had been anything but for so long it was nice to have the steady predictability that came with _normal_. But apparently Dorian, the apple of his eye, center of his world, love of his life, found normal rather boring.

“Do you not enjoy... me anymore?” He asked, suddenly feeling a pang of anxiety. What if Dorian was bored with _him_. What if the mage was finding it hard to even want to be with him? Because he was boringly normal. He was just Cullen Rutherford: ex-Templar, ex-Commander, stay-at-home dog dad.

“What? No!” Dorian set his paper down again and stood up to step around the table and kneel next to Cullen’s chair. “No, amatus! You are my shining star. My Lion. I could never not enjoy you. I love you for ever and always. It was a suggestion. Just an ear worm, my love.”

The great grandfather clock in the sitting room rhythmically banged out the time: Nine o’clock.

“Ah. I have to go. I’m late already.” Dorian stood up and pressed a warm kiss to Cullen’s forehead. “I love you, amatus. Don’t worry over what I said. It was a just a fanciful idea.” Another warm kiss and the mage turned and left the dining room in a hurry. His servant chased after him holding the Magister’s formal robes open for the mage to slip into as he left.

But worry he did. He spent the rest of the morning pondering the idea while staring at the china hutch set against the wall. He didn’t really see the ornate piece of furniture as his eyes lingered on the angular designed gold inlay.

Toys. Sex toys... Where would he even start?

A sudden idea came to mind and around noon Cullen stood quickly from his chair, rushing down the hallway to Dorian’s study. He stepped inside and over to the large, tidy desk where on top sat a dark orb nestled neatly upon a satin pillow. Gently he picked it up, the orb quickly warming under his touch as he concentrated on it. Thinking of her. The Inquisitor.

A few minutes later he heard a soft voice echo through the sending orb’s surface. “Dorian?”

“Um, no. Sorry, Inquisitor. It’s, uh, me.”

“Cullen? What’s wrong? Is everything okay?” The woman sounded as if she had just woken up.

“I’m sorry, did I wake you?” He asked. He tried to remember the last place that she had been and if the time difference was so great.

“I was taking a nap. What’s going on, is Dorian alright?”

“Yes, everything is fine. I was wondering if... Er, well... Is Bull there?” Cullen asked. He suddenly felt nervous and embarrassed. Why had he thought this would be a good idea?

“Yeah. Let me get him, one second.” There was the soft sound of feet shuffling over floorboards. He could hear the woman speaking to someone softly and then a gruff reply in the background.

“Hey, big guy. What’s going on?” Iron Bull’s voice was low and steady through the orb.

“Hi, Bull. I was going to... well, first, are you alone?” Cullen asked. His voice cracked slightly with nerves and he rubbed a hand over his face in an attempt to calm himself.

It was silent for a moment. “Yeah. She went back to bed. Think she’s coming down with a cold, been sleeping all day.”

“Ah. I’ll pray for her to feel better soon.” Cullen muttered.

“Thanks. What can I help you with?”

“So...” Cullen licked his lips nervously, eyes flickering around the room as if to check for anyone listening in. “I... Uh, well... So, you see... It’s just that once the Inquisitor had mentioned to me that... Perhaps you would be able... There are things... Uh.”

He could practically hear the Qunari’s eyebrows raising higher and higher on that large forehead. “One word at a time. We’ll get there.” The other man sounded far too amused for Cullen’s liking.

Taking a shuddering breath and wiped his sweating palm down his pant leg. His thigh jiggled wildly as he tried to formulate a coherent sentence. “Dorian...” _Deep breath, Rutherford._ “Hesuggestedweuseatoy.” The words spilled from him in a reckless rush.

Iron Bull was silent as he tried to wrap his mind around just what Cullen had said. “A toy?” He finally asked.

“Yeah. I think he may be bored. With. Me.”

There was another pause before the Qunari burst into laughter. In his mind’s eye Cullen could see the hulking man slapping his leg, head tossed back as he nearly rolled in mirth. “I highly doubt that he’s bored with you. The guy is so head over heels he walks on his hands.” The Qunari paused to catch his breath. “So why are you calling on me?”

“Uh. Well, there had been a night, once, where the Inquisitor may have had a little too much to drink. And she told us... Some details. About you two.” It had been a long time ago, but Cullen would never forget the way the woman’s eyes had gleamed with wanton lust as she told the small gathered group just what her and Bull had gotten up to the night previous.

“And you want, what? Ideas? Suggestions?”

“Erm... Yes. Please.” He was burning up. From head to toe his body was hot with embarrassment. It was a small blessing that the orb only transferred voice and not image as well.

Iron Bull took a long deep breath, the sounds of his hulking form shifting in the background rustled softly through the study. “Alright. So, a guy like Dorian? He wants to feel dominated.”

“What?”

“Yeah. The pretty peacock, he’s always strutting around. He think’s he’s the smartest guy in the room. Knows he is. And you know what the smartest guys in the room want? Someone to knock them down a peg. Show him who the _strongest_ guy in the room is.”

Cullen was frantically racking his mind for what Bull was getting at. “Well, I am usually the-”

“I’m not talking about the act itself. I mean the foreplay. I bet that prissy little Magister has had more wet dreams about you holding him down while wearing your shining Templar armor than he would ever be willing to admit.”

“So... I should wear armor?” Cullen’s voice pitched in confusion.

“No. I mean you could, I guess. If you really want to get into the role. Just push him around a little. Throw your weight around. Like you did in the Circles. Let him feel your strength. I bet he’d turn into a creamy mess if you just... Roughed him up a bit.”

Cullen was silent as he pondered the implications. He remembered grabbing mages by the arms. Roughly dragging them down the halls kicking and screaming before they were locked away in their rooms. It had held a certain thrill to it. “I see.” He muttered.

“Do you ever spank him?”

“What?” Once more the flush of humiliation.

“Do. You. Spank. Him?”

Honey-brown eyes stared wide at the orb. “Uh. I-I- Sure. Occasionally.” Cullen’s whole body was trembling. Maker preserve him.

“Does he like it?” Iron Bull’s voice was calm and steady. Nothing at all like Cullen’s own pitched, flustered tone.

“Y-Yeah. He seems to.”

“Alright. There you go, then. Slap him around a little.”

“You w-w-want me to _hit_ him?” Cullen was mildly mortified.

“Yeah. I mean, don’t use your full strength! You don’t want to _really_ hurt the guy. But... A firm slap across the cheek. Bet he’d get instant boner from it.” Bull sounded like he himself was enjoying envisioning the moment.

“I-well... It’s just that-”

“Look. I’ll tell you what. Here’s what you do: you’re gonna tie him up. Put a blind fold on him. Then you’re going to be Knight-Captain Rutherford. And he’s been a bad, bad mage. The hardest part, for you I think, is going to be letting go. At the end it’s just play. Rough, messy, satisfying play.”

“Alright...” Cullen took another shuddering breath and let it out slowly.

“Oh, and hey. The Chargers got a message about some work in Tevinter. We’re getting more details soon but, uh. If you’re tired of playing house-wife, you should come with us. Been awhile since you’ve swung that sword arm, huh?”

The easy turn of the conversation made the blonde smile. “That would be wonderful. I have been rather bored with the day to day.”

“Great. I’ll hit you up in a few days when we have more information.”

“Thank, Bull.”

“Anytime... Oh! And, uh... If you do decide to, you know, play? Be sure to use a safe word. Just in case he doesn’t like it. I guarantee he will, but it’s better safe than sorry.”

“A what word?” Cullen’s brow scrunched together.

“Safe word. Like, uh... Well, phylactery or... He’d probably use... Magistrate? Archon? Anything he wouldn’t just say during sex. Always remember, your partner has the say when enough is enough. If he doesn’t like something and uses that word, _you stop_. No matter how far you are. No matter how much you want to keep going. Or the trust is broken and, well, it’s a downhill slide from there. Get me?”

“Yes.”

“Alright. Anyway, you have fun. Oh, and tell that giant peacock happy birthday. We sent a letter but just in case it doesn’t get there in time.”

“Will do. Thanks again, Bull.”

“Anytime, Commander. Talk to you later.”

The orb went cold in his hand and Cullen gently set it back onto the satin pillow. He sat back in the chair and thought about what Iron Bull had suggested. Tapping his lips thoughtfully, Cullen stood up and walked back out of the study. He needed to go shopping.

Dorian let out a long, beleaguered sigh as he removed his robe. The sun was slowly sinking below the horizon, leaving the home in a pale pink glow as he walked through the hall towards the sitting room.

Cullen was already there. A book settled in his lap, a cup of tea on the side table next to him. The man looked up and smiled softly at him, his brown eyes glimmering with a show of love and devotion that Dorian was entirely sure he didn’t deserve.

“Welcome home.” The man whispered.

“Hello, amatus. It’s dark in here, aren’t your eyes straining?” He asked as he walked over to a nearby candelabra and lit the wicks with a wave of his fingers.

“I hadn’t noticed.” Cullen murmured, unraveling himself from the chair. All liquid grace and coiled strength. Dorian wondered if the warrior ever knew just how delicious it was to watch him move about. “Have you had dinner?”

“Yes. Well, they fed us. I wouldn’t call it dinner, exactly. But then nothing can compare to Ellia’s roast, can it?” Dorian said as he stepped forward and pressed a soft kiss to the blonde’s lips.

“I suppose not. We weren’t sure when you were coming home and had a small meal.” Cullen admitted, timidly glancing to the side.

“I’m glad you ate. It was a rather draining day and the thought of doing anything other than cuddling with you upon the sofa sounds absolutely exhausting.” He said, moving towards the sitting couch in front of the cold fireplace. “Shall I light a fire?”

“If you want.” Cullen said as he moved towards a small liquor cabinet on the far wall of the room. “Drink?” He asked, already pulling out a couple bottles of liquor.

“Sure. A small one.”

“Do you have to return tomorrow?” The man asked. The gentle clink of glassware tinkled through the room.

“Yes. But we don’t have to convene until half past ten. Thank Andraste.” He waved his hand and lifted a few pieces of wood magically into the fireplace before alighting them as well with a quick motion.

“Working on your force magics?” Cullen’s voice was gentle beside him as he held a small glass of apple brandy towards Dorian.

“Thank you, amatus. Yes. It seems to be rather practical.” He said, sipping at the oaky amber liquor.

Cullen chuckled softly and sat down next to Dorian. He craddled his own cup of brandy in his hands, holding it close to himself as if afraid the glass would jump away like a frightened cat. “Practicality is a necessity.”

Dorian hummed and sipped at his drink again, watching his lover thoughtfully. “Perhaps. I find it rather droll.” Brown eyes looked at him and Dorian felt himself shiver with the intensity he saw within.

“Iron Bull and Evelyn want to wish you a happy birthday.” Cullen said. His voice was pitched low and sultry. There was a change in the way the man was holding himself. Not the usual casual grace he would lounge in, but something tighter. As if he were carrying a powerful tension in his whole being. A lion ready to pounce.

“Oh? Did they send a letter?” Dorian asked his voice breathy as his lips pulled another mouthful of brandy into his mouth. He let it set on his tongue, the warm spicy tones settling his sudden nervousness.

“I spoke to them earlier. With the orb.” Cullen admitted.

“Ah.” Dorian took another sip. The brandy was working rather quickly. His head already was swimming, limbs feeling lighter than ever.

“Iron Bull offered me a spot with the Chargers. They have a job here in Tevinter soon.”

“Oh? And will you join them?” Colors were swimming now, whirling rainbows around Cullen’s pretty, pretty hair.

“I think I will. Haven’t been out of this house in far too long. I’m getting lazy. And fat.” The other man was sliding closer to him now, a strong hand gripping Dorian’s shoulder as he swayed slightly where he sat.

“You’re not even the slightest bit fat. Did you happen to... Put something in my drink, amatus?” His words were slurred. He could taste the incorrectness of them as they slid over his lips.

“A little valerian.” The man confessed. His grip tightened slightly when Dorian almost tilted off the edge of the couch to the floor. “I need you to remember this word, Dorian. Embrium. If you ever want or need me to stop. Just say Embrium.”

“Embrium. Why?” Dorian slurred out as he set the nearly empty glass onto the side table. Cullen didn’t answer. Just continued to watch him with predatory intensity, those honey-brown eyes becoming the entire center of Dorian’s universe. “You’re absolutely beautiful.” He said in a hushed tone. Vision swimming, his head fell back when he was no longer able to support the weight with his neck.

Strong arms wrapped around him and Dorian groaned as he was lifted from the couch and craddled against Cullen’s chest. The world slowly darkened as he slipped into a comfortable sleep.

Something tickled against his foot, running up and down the length of his sole. Toes twitched and Dorian tried to pull his foot away. But found he couldn’t. There were silken ropes tied around his ankles that held firm as he jerked against them.

He paused as he took it in. He was laying upon a soft mattress. Ankles tied to, what he supposed, were bed posts with his legs spread wide. His wrists bound together and lashed above his head to the headboard. And he was completely nude, except for a dark blind over his eyes. Trussed and helpless. His breath caught in his throat and for a brief moment he wondered if he was in terrible danger.

“So, you awaken.” A familiar voice _purred_ from beside him. There was a soft tracing hand that ran up the inside of his calf and knee. Rough fingers danced over his inner thigh, causing sparks of pleasure to tingle through his body. With his vision gone, Dorian’s other senses were acutely aware of _everything_. Especially his sense of touch.

“Not too late, I hope.” He quipped back.

That hand upon his thigh was quick to clamp down across his mouth, cutting off any other words he might have felt the need to say. Dorian blinked behind the dark velvet blindfold, achingly aware of the large, warm body that hovered at the edge of the bed beside him.

“You will not speak, mage. Not unless I give you permission.” Cullen growled out. His calloused fingers were tight about his mouth. But they loosened with the warning and the large hand that had clapped over his lips moved away. Dorian shivered.

“Or what? You’ll -”

The slap was quick and sharp. His head tossed to the side and Dorian couldn’t help the shocked gasp that escaped his lips. Cullen had never used physical violence against him before. Had never struck him in such a manner.

 _Embrium. If you ever want me to stop._ So. Cullen had spoken with Iron Bull earlier.

Cool fingers brushed across the inflamed skin of his cheek and Dorian’s eyes fluttered behind the blind as he pressed his face against the soothing touch. His tongue danced out and wet his lips in excitement as he kept himself from trying to say anything in retort. His breath came in short gasps as those fingers continued to soothe over his face.

“Do you know what we do to uppity mages in the South?” Cullen asked, his voice low and soft. Those gentle fingers were sliding down to Dorian’s jaw and they grasped tight around it.

He didn’t answer.

“A quick learner. Good.” The tight clamping grip on his jaw loosened and the hand slid further down to his neck. Strong, sword roughened fingers wrapped around his throat. Slowly, ever so slowly, his breath was cut off as the fingers tightened their grasp. Dorian could feel his pulse thrumming wildly against Cullen’s hand. Anticipatory to what the ex-Templar was planning to do to him. Dorian tried to swallow, his adam’s apple bobbing against Cullen’s palm. The barest hint of air was able to slip past that strong grip to his aching lungs.

“Punitive measures are taken. If you were wondering.” Cullen said in such a casual tone it was almost as if they were having tea on the veranda. “I should punish you. You’ve been rather cheeky of late.” That hand released it’s hold on his neck, allowing Dorian to take a shaky breath in, and it slowly slid down to where shoulder met neck. Where it then followed the sharp curve of his collarbone. Rough fingertips pressed firmly against his breast bone and traced their way to the center of his chest.

Dorian’s whole world was wrapped up in the feel of those fingers. The rough touch that left his skin prickling in it’s wake.

The familiar strong, broad hand pressed palm flat against his chest and roughly dragged across his pectoral. Dorian gasped in surprise when his nipple was pinched roughly. Pulled, twisted, abused. A soft groan of pain escaped from his lips and those fingers were taken away to be replaced by a soft tongue, laving across the puckered flesh. Easing the hot burn of pain to a delightful pleasure.

He was painfully aroused.

As that tongue continued to soothe across the sensitive skin of his nipple, that torturous hand was continuing it’s grazing touch down Dorian’s side. Fingers gripped his waist tightly for a moment before moving to his hip. They dipped into the hollow of his pelvic bone, pushing against the firm flesh and rubbing in tight circles. Each pressing ministration slowly getting closer and closer to the throbbing center of Dorian’s being. He was so close to touching where Dorian wanted him to.

“Cullen pl-”

But his plea for more was cut off by a soft exclaim of pain. That circling tongue on his chest quickly turned to sharp teeth that bit down viciously. Fingers that had been making delicious circles on his hip stopped, the building tingling pleasure quickly focused to the forceful almost painful grip that wrapped around his pelvic bone.

That painful bite on his nipple lifted away and Dorian’s breath stuttered as he _felt_ Cullen move to hover his face over his own. The blonde was so close he could feel warm breath brush over his lips. Slowly he lifted his head from where it lay upon the mattress towards the warmth of lips that lingered. He wondered how much he could take. Obviously words were no use (except one and Dorian was loathe to use it). But there were other ways of asking for more.

His mouth opened wantonly as he lifted further off the bed in search of those delightful lips. But it seemed with each inch closer he came, Cullen would pull back. Just enough to stay out of reach. The warmth from his breath puffed softly against his face and Dorian _keened_ in desire for the man’s kiss.

A hand brushed through his hair in a loving gesture. But the gentle caress lasted only a moment before those fingers gripped tight, pulling Dorian’s head back and away. The grip was tight but not painful. It tugged at his hair, causing small thrilling sparks to shiver over Dorian’s scalp.

“Always trying to take more. Always scheming and reaching for that which you don’t deserve.” Those fingers tugged again, painfully tightening in his hair. “You have to prove you deserve it. Can you do that? Prove to me you deserve my mercy?” Another tug at his hair.

Dorian nodded vigorously. At least as vigorously as he could with his head pulled back until his neck arched almost painfully.

The hand that had held his hip solidly in place moved to brush across his jaw line. In a surprisingly gentle touch Cullen’s fingers brushed over his slightly parted lips. As if the delicate curve of them captivated him. Those thick fingers pushed against his upper lip and slid into his mouth, feeling along the gum line and teeth.

Dorian remained still. Breath came in heavy panting gasps as he waited for whatever Cullen had in mind. His heart hammered in anticipation.

“Suck.” Cullen commanded.

So Dorian did. He let his teeth part and he suckled on the tips of Cullen’s fingers as if they were the last drops of water in a parched desert. The fingers in his hair released their hold just enough that he was able to lift his head slightly and draw more of his lover’s fingers into his mouth. His arousal leaked against his belly as his cock jumped painfully with the act of the familiar deed.

Cullen’s fingers slowly began to move in and out. _Fucking_ Dorian’s mouth. Those tortuous fingers slid further back into his mouth, pushing down against his tongue as they slipped far enough to tickle the back of his throat. Dorian’s eyes watered behind the blind with the effort at not gagging with the sensation. The low rumbling groan that escaped the blonde sent waves of fiery gratification prickling over his skin and pooling between his legs.

Those fingers, now wet with saliva, pulled free of his mouth. He let out a soft disappointed sound, but it was swallowed up as Cullen’s mouth crashed against his own. Teeth and tongue, nothing gentle or soothing in the plundering kiss.

It was perfect.

Dorian moaned loudly into his lover’s mouth. Fingers wove their way into his hair again and he was pulled roughly away from the sloppy kiss. The bed creaked and the heat of Cullen’s body moved from the side of the bed to hover over his own. Slowly the man crawled on his knees up to Dorian’s head. The bed dipped and creaked beneath his movement.

The smell of Cullen filled his nose. The heavy musky scent of male arousal. Dorian’s mouth watered eagerly and he wiggled in anticipation as the heat from his lover’s body as it inched nearer to his head. The hand in his hair gripped harder to hold him still as he unwittingly tried to move closer. Dorian’s arms pulled at the silken restraints that held him to no avail. The knots were well made and held true. He groaned in frustration.

“Patience is a virtue, mage.” Cullen rasped out, his voice was low with his own carnal hunger.

Dorian knew exactly the way Cullen looked. Eyes hooded, cheeks flushed pink, a sheen of sweat upon his skin. His teeth ground together in frustration at the blind over his eyes. He loved seeing the man in this state. All wild desire centering around Dorian. And only Dorian. It was intoxicating to know he was the one who drove the usually reserved man _mad_ with lust.

Something warm, soft, and damp pressed against his lips. That heady smell growing in intensity as Cullen’s erection slid slowly into Dorian’s mouth. He could taste the other’s precum: salty and bitter. But try as he did to pull more of that thick member into his mouth he was unable. The grip upon his hair was holding him so tightly he was afraid to move lest a large chunk was torn from his head. That hand trembled with the effort of keeping him still as Cullen continued to push into his mouth.

Dorian let his tongue wrap around that heavy cock, tasting as much of the other’s arousal as he was allowed. The soft gasping breaths from the man above him were all the reward he needed as he continued to tease the sensitive underside. Cullen’s second hand pushed against his shoulder, pressing Dorian down into the soft mattress top. It caused a strain on his trussed arms but only just enough to be such a wonderful counterpart to the aching arousal that sung through his body.

Slowly, ever so slowly, strong hips began to thrust against his face. Dorian did his best to relax, take in his lover as much as he could. Eyes watering, throat flexing, he took shallow breaths through his nose as was allowed. Soft murmurs of pleasure and the occasional slipped curse tumbled over Dorian’s skin like small skittering spiders. Shivering goose flesh prickled over him with each mumbled word of blasphemous praise from his lover.

After a minute, Cullen sat back on Dorian’s chest. His weight was heavy and solid, pressing against what little air he could pull into his lungs. The hand in his hair moved away and the soft sound of a drawer opening next to the bed set Dorian on high alert. His legs moved about as much as they could, his ankles pressing into the mattress as he shifted his hips around in anticipation.

Cullen was retrieving the well used bottle of lubricant from the bedside table.

A soft pop of a cork being removed from glass and Dorian’s whole body shivered. He wanted so much for Cullen to fuck him. To untie his legs and fold him in half, pressing him into the mattress while Dorian begged for more, more, please more!

That weight that had settled on his chest lifted and he took a deep breath as the bed creaked. Cullen was crawling back down the bed.

“Alright, mage. Tell me what you want.”

Dorian paused in his excited wiggling movements to ponder the other’s words. Was he giving permission to speak? Or was this a trap? If Dorian spoke would Cullen stop what he was doing? Make him wait in punishment? Only one way to find out.

“I want you.” He croaked out.

He waited for the sharp slap of fingers on his flesh. But it didn’t happen. The bed creaked again with the warrior’s shifting weight. He tried to figure out just what Cullen was doing, trying to decipher the man’s intentions from the _feel_ of him.

“Beg for it.” The blonde growled. It was a low predatory sound. A strong hand wrapped around his neck once more and Dorian licked his lips excitedly.

“Please. Please, I want you so much. I’ll do anything you want if you would just _fuck_ me.” He groaned. Those fingers about his neck were tightening again with each word that fell from his mouth. “Anything, Commander.” He hissed between tight teeth.

There was a sharp intake of breath from Cullen at the old respectful title. He wondered just how dark those honey-brown eyes were. How wide with lust were the warrior’s pupils as he stared down at Dorian.

A hand gripped tightly at the base of his achingly untouched cock and Dorian jumped in surprise, a small squawk escaping his lips. His breath came in ragged, choked gasps as a warm body began to lower itself upon him.

It had been a long while since Cullen was the receiving end of their love. Not that Dorian minded, not one small bit. Especially since the blonde had mentioned he perhaps was not too fond of the act. It was shocking, then, that the man was now gently pushing down onto his throbbing, aching cock. If he could sing in elation he would have. But that hand upon his throat was tight, fingers nearly bruising the sensitive flesh and cutting off anything but a soft whimper.

That heavy weight settled upon his pelvis. Fully seated within his lover, Dorian could do nothing but writhe beneath the other man, arms and legs pulling at the ropes that bound them. His heart was pounding hard within his chest. He could feel his pulse against the clamping hold on his neck.

Time seemed to melt into a river of unending seconds when Cullen _didn’t move_. Dorian himself was frantically pulling at his bindings, unintelligible choked words spilling from his mouth. But when the other man did finally shift upwards then settle back down, everything tingled and shifted, threatening to explode.

It took a couple tortuously slow motions of the warrior’s hips, but eventually he seemed to find a pace that he enjoyed. It was a hard, staccato rhythm. The bed rattled against the wall, shuddered over the floorboards with the sheer intensity that Cullen was fucking himself on Dorian with. His second hand joined the first, grasping around the mage’s slender neck firmly.

Lights flashed in front of his eyes, blooming against the dark backdrop of the blind. His orgasm was moving through him like lightening, sparking hot just under his skin.

“Ah... Ahh!” Cullen’s hands released his throat and gripped Dorian’s shoulders. Nails bit into the skin leaving perfect half-moon impressions sure to bruise. Hot semen splashed across his belly and chest, but the warrior didn’t stop the motion of his hips, continuing to slam down repeatedly upon him.

It was glorious.

It was too much.

That lightening turned into a raging fire and Dorian’s head pressed back into the mattress as his back arched, ankles pressing down. He lifted both himself and Cullen high off the bed as he orgasmed. He could feel the coils of fire in his belly rend through his limbs. Shuddering, gasping wordlessly.

There was a sharp crackle of electricity as his magic escaped in physical form at the sheer _intensity_ of his orgasm.

His back gave out and he fell back to the bed. Large gasping breaths filled his aching lungs with air. His body was still shaking, limbs convulsing every now and then in the aftermath.

“Shit!” Cullen hissed. The man climbed off him quickly and Dorian couldn’t help but pout.

“What?” He asked as he listened to the man banging around the room. There was a shout of alarm and the sound of splashing water. Droplets fell over Dorian’s forehead and he cried in fright. “What happened!”

A heavy pause. Followed by the joyful sound of Cullen’s laughter. Fingers quickly moved to work on the knots in the silken ropes upon his wrists and ankles. Once free, Dorian ripped the blind from his eyes and sat up quickly.

“What was that?” He asked in trepidation.

“You caught the bed curtains on fire.” Cullen snorted, sitting down on the edge of the bed and cradling his head as he guffawed into his hands.

Dorian blinked a couple times as he tried to calm his racing heart. But as the other’s words sunk in his lips pulled back into a grin as he chortled along.

Brown eyes, crinkled in mirth, looked up at Dorian. “Well... Not a bad first go. And I didn’t even have to put on my old armor.”

“Armor? What?” Dorian asked bemused. The blonde was crawling across the bed and his face pressed into his shoulder, pushing Dorian back again on the mattress. He wrapped his arms around the strong ex-Templar, holding him close and pressing soft loving kisses to sun-freckled shoulders.

“Oh. It’s nothing.” Cullen yawned widely and wrapped his arms around Dorian as they snuggled back against the pillows. “I love you.” The man whispered against his skin.

“And I love you. Thank you for that performance. It was quite lovely. Much, much better than a feather.” Dorian sighed happily.

Cullen snorted softly in amusement and mumbled something sleepily. Another gentle kiss to golden hair and they both soon drifted into hazy post-coital sleep.

“Amatus! Iron Bull.” Dorian said as he stepped into the sitting room, the sending crystal in his hand.

Cullen uncurled from where he lay reading on the sofa and took the orb from Dorian’s hand. “Thank you.” He said as the other retreated from the room to return to his study.

“Hey, big guy! So we got some more details on that job. You still in?” Bull’s voice asked through the shimmering surface.

“Of course.”

“Perfect. Oh, but hey... First... How’d, uh, how’d it go?”

Cullen glanced at the door to the sitting room, his lips pulling into a soft smirk. “It went well, Bull.”


End file.
